


Museum of Horrors

by thursdayshunter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Gaping, Angst, Blindfolds, Castration, Dark, Dehydration, Fisting, Forced Orgasm, Gags, Handcuffs, Helpless Dean, Horror, Human Castiel, Human Statues, Human Wax Statues, Humiliation, Hunter Dean, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean, Hurt Sam, Hurt Samandriel, Implied Bottom Castiel, Implied Top Dean, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Name-Calling, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, Past Dean/others - Freeform, Physical Humiliation, Psychological Horror, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Sadistic Character, Starvation, Taunting, Teen Castiel, Teen Dean, Torture, Tortured Castiel, Tortured Dean, Traumatized Castiel, Traumatized Dean, Unhappy Ending, Verbal Humiliation, Very Dark Fic, Violence, Waxing, ceramic clay, helpless castiel, kiln, mentioned samandriel/others, past Castiel/OMCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:21:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9372065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursdayshunter/pseuds/thursdayshunter
Summary: A series of disappearances manage to catch Dean's attention and thinking he can finally show Castiel what hunting entails Dean brings his boyfriend along. He never would have thought it was merely a trap and that his actions had damned both of them into joining The Collector's growing collection of art.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING! Seriously you have been warned. This is a dark, twisted prompt.
> 
> Written for a prompt. Specifics of the prompt are in the notes at the end.

Dean tugged Castiel along behind him towards the large building. He glanced at several rather life sized statues, eyes flicking over them as he frowned, before returning to his goal. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” Castiel’s voice had him glancing back.

“You said you were interested in finding out about hunting,” Dean paused near a statue that reminded him of a pirate, “People are going missing around here and it’s usually near this museum. Everything I’ve found points to this being to the source.”

Castiel gave him a slightly dubious look, “This just looks like some kind of creepy statue museum. I don’t see anything supernatural about it.” He cast the statues around them a frown before looking back at Dean, “And what have you found?”

“Clues.” Dean shrugged, “My Dad has been training me for years, Cas, and these clues were more than obvious. A fifth grader could have figured out this was where things were happening.”

They started back through what looked like a courtyard behind the building. Dean pushed the thoughts telling him something was wrong as he continued to haul Castiel along behind him. He had a knife and a gun on him in case but mostly he was hoping to get something to prove everything he’d found was right. It was something small, disappearances, and it should work perfectly for showing Castiel what hunting entailed.

He’d been trying to convince his boyfriend about the supernatural and hunting for the few months they’d been in town. His Dad was gone several towns over on another hunt, Sam would be fine for the rest of the day and Dean was hoping the adrenaline of the morning would lead to some very enjoyable sex.

The last time they had gotten to fuck Sam had walked in on them when he had been buried balls deep in Castiel’s tight little hole, fucking hard and fast, a few thrusts off his orgasm. Fortunately Castiel hadn’t noticed and after Sam had fled Dean had been able to keep going until he had come.

As he looked at the building it looked closed but Dean was more than sure that the disappearances traced back to  _this_  place even though he knew the museum did business most days out of the week. There couldn’t be a question that what he’d found pointed to this museum and there was that guy he’d spoken to who told him strange things happened up here.

Why would someone from town make that up?

They finally made it towards the windows and a glance in revealed more statues in various positions throughout the room. It was creepy and Dean shivered at the sight before him.

“They’re kind of…interesting.” Castiel breathed out as he glanced in, “Look how detailed they are and how varied.” His body was warm against Dean’s side where they were pressed together, crouched down by a window, as Dean tried to get his mind to focus on the hunt.

He wanted to prove himself to his Dad and to show Castiel he wasn’t just making things up. This, solving this, would prove it. Dean was more than sure.

“They’re creepy as fuck, Cas.” Dean muttered even as Castiel leaned closer to the window staring in, “Though that one right there,” he pointed to the ceramic statue of a naked woman, one of a very small number of female statues, that was posed provocatively. The large, full breasts were perfectly shaped with an obviously caring touch so the nipples were at pointed peaks and the face was done to express ecstasy with the head thrown back, legs splayed out with another statue position between her thighs, “That isn’t creepy at all. That one belongs in some kind of porn museum.”

It was provocative as fuck.  

Probably a good thing there were so few female statues if that’s what the creator did with them. It clearly belonged away from young eyes even if Dean was having a hard time taking his eyes from it. Though mostly he was imagining Castiel in a similar position, completely naked with his legs spread wide and pleasure lighting up his features.

The rest of the room was no better with various statues set in provocative poses and Dean felt a curl of arousal as he took in the different positions letting his mind wonder.

“No.” Castiel was flushed, “Not creepy.”

“Do you want to make out?” Dean grinned at him, watching the way Castiel’s lips parted and he stared at Dean. “Or maybe…you want to fuck? Right out here? On the grass? Outside of a public building?”

Dean had a whole list of things he wanted to do to Castiel before the inevitable of his Dad moving them happened. Fucking outside was without a doubt on the list and he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone hearing Castiel moving as he fucked his plump ass right into the ground. The lube he always carried around should be used for something and if it was before a hunt, why not? They were seventeen, perpetually horny and Dean knew Castiel was usually up for sex whenever he brought it up.

The few stories Castiel had shared about the two other males he’d been fucked by had given Dean a pretty good idea that Castiel could be kinky as fuck. It was partly why he had mentally added threesome to the list since the thought of Castiel stuffed full of _two_ dicks had had him coming hard enough to almost blackout when he’d jerked off in the shower.

“Outside?” Castiel glanced around at the grass in question before Dean reached out, curled a hand around the back of his head and hauled him in for a kiss. Dean was more than capable of getting Castiel interested.

He could hear the surprised gasp escape as he started moving his lips and it wasn’t long before Castiel was moaning against him, fingers gripping his shirts and body pressed right against him. Sex outside was looking like a very good possibility.

They broke for air, “Yeah. I want you to fuck me right out here. Right in the grass. Want you to fuck me hard enough I feel it for days.” Castiel’s pupils were huge, the blue of his eyes almost gone, as Dean grinned and yanked him back in for another kiss.

Dean easily slid his tongue into Castiel’s mouth when his boyfriend moaned and moved it along Castiel’s just as he knew Castiel liked. It was nothing to shuck their pants and underwear down, to press lube wet fingers into Castiel's tight hole and to twist until Castiel was begging for his cock. Dean was more than happy to give it to him, stroking himself with a lube slick palm, as Castiel whined at the loss of his fingers. Their mouths moved together, hands wandered and Dean briefly forgot about the entire purpose of being outside.

So lost in the pleasure of Castiel touching and kissing him, thinking about being buried balls deep in Castiel’s plump ass as he rolled Castiel over to press inside with a filthy moan of delight, that Dean didn’t hear the light footsteps coming towards them until it was too late. Dean had started fucking into Castiel, cock sliding in and out of Castiel tight hole, as Castiel moaned under him. The feeling of wet, tight heat wrapped deliciously around him had Dean completely lost to the sensation of rigorously pounding his boyfriend into the cool grass. It wasn't until he sensed someone looking at them that he glanced back, separating from Castiel, only for something to slam against his head.

Blackness dragged him into unconsciousness.

* * *

The Collector watched the first teen collapse onto the ground, heard the shout from the second whose little hole gaped prettily from where his boyfriend's cock had been nestled and brought his weapon down on the second teen without a second of hesitation. Like the first he was rendered unconscious and fell onto the ground.

“Perfect.” He breathed out taking in the two unconscious teenagers. It was easier to yank their pants up, less of a hassle, as he focused on the task before him.

It took awhile to get both inside, down into the basement where his workshop was located and laid out on two preparation tables. He flicked a glance over at Samandriel who he’d just finished posing, took in the sight of the large metal mannequin stand pole he’d inserted deep inside the teen to keep the boy upright, before moving towards the cabinet.

Each teenager had the paralytic injected into them, a dose he knew would prevent movement for up to five hours, before he turned towards Samandriel.

“Sorry for that interruption.” He grinned, “Now where were we?” tears had silently slid down Samandriel’s smooth cheeks and bright eyes were absolutely glassy as they stared at him in terror. “I’m sure that metal pole doesn’t feel too good but I know any damage you received when I inserted it won’t kill you. I can’t have you dying on me before our time is finished.”

As The Collector moved around the room, getting the melted wax prepared, he could hear moaning coming from the preparation tables. The first one was coming around and soon enough dazed green eyes were staring over at him from where the teen’s head had lulled when he’d placed him on the table.

“Oh you’re just in time. I was about to begin.”

He watched as green eyes focused on Samandriel, frozen in his provocative pose and completely naked, as The Collector readied the wax. A few touches had tubes inserted into Samandriel’s nose holes, secured in place, before he started to pour the hot wax on every single inch.

Muffled howling rent the air and The Collector was thankful that he’d learned his lesson about sewing the mouth shut before pouring the wax on a figure whose mouth was meant to be closed for their pose. It woudn’t do for his wax statue to be ruined by a model that had its mouth opened.

Gags and sewing thread were the best options for wax statues.

The Collector made sure to add hot wax to every single inch of Samandriel’s nude body, liberally coating everything, to make sure he didn’t miss anything. It was harder to work around the large metal pole of the mannequin stand he’d created specifically for human models but in the end he’d gotten that down to an art.

He could still hear the muffled howling and sobbing as the hot wax was repeatedly poured over Samandriel until he was finished. “Once that all dries we can continue.” He spoke as he moved away from Samandriel’s position.

Once he was finished shaping the wax, he wouldn’t be worrying about clothing on this wax statue, he could remove the covering on the metal stand and polish the metal until it gleamed.

On the table green eyes were staring at Samandriel in terrified horror and a glance at the other table revealed blue eyes, slightly dazed, with the same look of fear in them. He was grateful for an audience as he worked with his latest model.

Samandriel had really been far too tempting to pass up. A pretty little fifteen year old recently run away from home and trying to sell himself to older men in town to pay for a room to stay in. All it had taken was picking the little prostitute up, taking him back for the fuck he’d purchased and then drugging the boy. Really the boy had been too adorable to pass up.

The Collector had figured he would get further along in this model’s creation into a gorgeous wax statue when his silent proximity alarm had been tripped. The Collector had known Dean Winchester, an upcoming hunter and already getting a name for himself, would pick up the clues he’d started to deliberately leave for him.

All it had taken was placing himself in the right place at the right time, muttered about the disappearances, and the young hunter was questioning him. He’d figured it would take a day or two more before Dean showed up but it seemed the young hunter hadn’t even waited for the next night.

Oh well.

The little hunter could see a hint of what was to come even if his fate would be different than Samandriel’s. He’d wanted the adorable little thing for a wax statue but Dean Winchester would be done in glorious ceramic clay.

It was a bonus that it appeared the young hunter had brought his equally pretty boyfriend along with him. Now he could have two new ceramic clay statues to go with Samandriel’s wax statue.

“Don’t worry,” he spoke up to them, “Once I’m done with this model I’ll start preparing the two of you. It’s a long process but  _very_  rewarding when I’m finished. You already spent time admiring some of my work as you walked up here and even some of my more provocative statues inside. That was my sinful collection. Samandriel here is going to be joining that collection. I’m thinking: “Corrupted Innocence. Model Samandriel” for his plaque.”

The Collector checked the wax and once it was dry he started carefully carving away the excess wax, shaping it to fit the delectable figure underneath. He was careful, hands sure and steady, as the wax slowly accumulated on the floor.

“You’re sick.”

Dean Winchester’s voice was unsteady as The Collector glanced over to regard him, “I have vision.” He teased with a curl of his lips, “If you had learned not stick your nose where it doesn’t belong you wouldn’t be here.” And to dig the knife a little deeper, “And your poor little boyfriend wouldn’t be laid out on one of my preparation tables waiting for his turn to model for me.”

“You touch a single hair on his head and I’ll fucking—”

“Kill me?” The Collector rolled his eyes, “You think I can’t handle some little punk hunter? Even one who is slowly gaining a name for himself? I’ve been doing this for longer than you’ve been alive,  _boy_ , and I’ll be doing it long after you’ve been added to my collection.”

The other teenager had started crying, tears spilling from his eyes and sliding down his cheeks, as whimpers escaped. “Cas? Cas it’s going to be alright. It’s going to be ok.” Dean tried soothing even though The Collector could see the clear doubt on Dean’s too pretty face.

“Keep telling him that.” He snorted and turned back to his work, ignoring the next two models, as he focused on Samandriel.

It was a slow and careful process, carving away excess wax and shaping it, until a more distinctive shape started to take form. He carved the curves, the dips and the smooth plains of Samandriel’s body. It was far more detailed work when he got to Samandriel’s tiny dick and balls, carefully removing extra wax and shaping them, until he was satisfied.

Hours of detailed work, shaping and smoothing over Samandriel’s wax covered form before carefully adding color to bring the wax statue into one that looked like the human encased inside the wax.

With a fully nude wax statue it took longer than the ones he dressed but The Collector was a patient man and a perfectionist. He layered color, blended it and checked repeatedly to make sure it was coming along nicely only pausing to inject the paralytic in his models to make sure they couldn’t move.

Once Samandriel’s wax covered form had returned to a far more natural appearance he added some hair for the head. Next he fixed eyebrows onto the wax in a shape very near what Samandriel’s had looked like before with a satisfied hum.

The Collector finally finished and stood back admiring the final product. Samandriel had been a great choice for his sinful collection and the way he was positioned with the metal mannequin pole inserted far up into Samandriel’s ass gave the viewer the exact impression he had wanted to achieve.

If the boy hadn’t run away from home and tried to sell himself to pay for rent he wouldn’t be spending the last of his life with a large metal pole buried in his rosy little hole with his nude body covered in wax.

Or maybe he would have.

The Collector typically tried to find models that appealed to him and that he knew would look beautiful in his collection. Aesthetically pleasing models called to him more and those who visited the museum preferred them especially those who frequented his sinful collection to admire the display of various forms in a variety of sexual positions.

“Isn’t he perfect?” he breathed out double checking the two holes he’d left for Samandriel’s nose so he could breathe. “You know this model was trying to be a prostitute when I found him? A little runaway trying to sell himself on the street at only fifteen and now he’s a work of provocative art. How could I resist?”

“You’re a monster.” Dean hissed at him in fury and that was when The Collector noticed his fingers twitched. The last dose he’d given the two newest models had been of a lesser amount, not having expected to spend so long on Samandriel.

Frowning he moved over to get more drugs and without pause injected Dean once more, moved over to the young hunter’s boyfriend and injected him as well. “Can’t have you moving.” He muttered and moved back. “Now I need to go put Samandriel in his new home and I will be back to start on you two. Try not to miss me.”

Dean’s howls of fury followed him out of the room as he loaded Samandriel onto the lift, pressed the correct floor button and shut the door. He took his time finding the exact spot he wanted to place Samandriel, relishing the muffled sobs from the young teen. The Collector knew Samandriel was completely trapped inside of the wax unable to move once more after The Collector had injected more of the paralytic where the tiny hole couldn’t be seen.

Downstairs he found Dean once more trying to calm his boyfriend down and The Collector grinned to himself. He’d planned on simply taunting the young hunter, humiliating him and turning him into a pretty statue but now he could use Dean’s own boyfriend against him.

He’d start on the boyfriend first.


	2. Chapter 2

A glance around revealed everything carefully put into place. The shallow tub had been filled once more with his special oil, waiting for his newest models to soak, in the corner of his workshop. Two mannequin stands with wide bases shaped for different poses, shined metal and the rounded end to ensure little damage was done internally, were placed a distance apart for when he was ready to pose both of his models.

But for now, The Collector focused on the pair of scissors, the trash can and the shaving kit he had gathered.

“We’ll start with you, blue eyes.” He breathed out as he picked up the scissors and humming to himself started to cut away the clothing covering the gorgeous little teen laid out on the table. Tear tracks had dried on flushed cheeks, blue eyes were glassy with fear and plump lips trembled as broken sobs escaped out into the room. “Shhhhh. You’re going to be so gorgeous when I finish. I have a good idea on how I’ll pose you but I’ll know the details of the position when I can see all of you.”

The shirt was tossed into the trash, followed by jeans, shoes, socks and finally underwear revealing the smooth, tanned body that had once been hidden.

“Well there isn’t a question that you’re the bottom, is there?” he reached out and fondled the small, plump little balls resting underneath a tiny penis that seemed more for show than anything else. It wasn’t like this teen could have hoped to do much fucking if _that_ was what he had to work with but it looked perfect resting between his legs. “And already waxed? Soft and bare between those legs I know you love spreading. You saved me some time.”

“Don’t touch him!” Dean snarled the words out in fury, howling and threatening, as The Collector ignored him. He wanted to focus on the first model and it was such a pretty one at that.

The wallet he’d found in the pants rested on the table next to the nude teenager and a quick look inside gave him a name for his plaque. “Castiel Novak.” He breathed out, “After the angel?” his lips quirked, “I think I know exactly what kind of model you’ll be.” His eyes darted over the information. The pretty teenager had recently turned seventeen and he would remain frozen at seventeen when he finished.

Forever captured at such a young, vital point in his life. Those who viewed this statue would no doubt enjoy the sight.

He stared at the body before him and easily imagined pretty, full wings that he thought would add to the image. Castiel would be the first angel statue he would complete. It was a matter of whether he wanted a debauched little angel for his sinful collection, possibly provocatively displayed like he had Samandriel or if he wanted Castiel to be an image of purity.

The Collector already knew he wanted to position Castiel on his knees. It was a matter of whether it would be an innocent image or one of sin.

Slowly his hands mapped the naked body laid out before him, learning the curves and dips, before he rolled Castiel’s paralyzed body over onto his belly. The teen had a _very_ plump ass, perfectly rounded cheeks and a rosy little hole The Collector was more than sure had seen a great deal of action in the teenager’s short existence.

“Definitely made to bottom.” The Collector spread Castiel’s cheeks wide to gaze at the little hole he’d have to loosen significantly before he could begin to insert the wide, round end of the mannequin stand to make sure Castiel remained in position while he worked. “I’m sure you’ve enjoyed this ass more than once.” He tossed over at Dean who had yet to stop screaming and threatening. “At least from the conversation I heard I gather you’ve fucked it a few times.”

It only caused The Collector to feel amusement and pleasure at the obvious distress the young hunter was experiencing as he snarled in fury. Who said he couldn’t take joy in his work?

He reached for the shaving cream and methodically covered Castiel’s legs where he could see hair. Each swipe of the razor left smooth, soft skin behind and soon he had the backs hairless. The Collector rolled Castiel back over, finished off the legs until they were perfectly hairless, before slowly working his way up Castiel’s body.

The teen had a surprisingly hairless chest but a light happy trail that was effortlessly shaved off. Next came the arms which he was careful with, removing the hair and wiping the skin afterwards to clear off any shaving cream residue as he had each time upon finishing.

“Now for your head.” Wide blue eyes stared up at him and he could see the way Castiel was desperately wishing he could move, that he wasn’t there but he only smiled wickedly in response. Some shaving cream on both eyebrows soon saw them gone and then he started on the process of removing the hair.

First, he snipped it short, cutting away the excess, until it was shorter and the dark strands had been discarded into the trash along with the rest of Castiel’s items. He had to be very careful shaving Castiel’s head but over the years The Collector had gotten more than enough practice that soon Castiel laid out on the table completely devoid of hair.

A quick check with the measuring tape gave him an idea of size he’d need for this model’s mannequin pole.

“Let’s get you into the tub.” He hauled Castiel up and off the table before steadily moving towards the oil filled tub, “This is a very special concoction I received from my dear sister, a delightfully powerful witch, that completely removes any toxins in your body and as it soaks in removes any waste. You’ll be nice and clean, completely empty inside, when you’re done soaking. It also helps to _preserve_ you after the process of being a work of art is complete. No one wants a rotting statue, do they?”

He placed Castiel inside, sinking him up to his neck and hooking him in place so he didn’t drown. The sobs hadn’t abated the entire time and had gotten even more broken sounding but The Collector only relished the sound.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Dean seemed to be covering up his terror with a continued litany of horrible threats as The Collector cut away the various layers, removed the pants and shoes, before cutting away Dean’s underwear. Unlike his boyfriend Dean was of average size and unshaven.

“It’s  _tempting_  to make the two of you into a single statue. I can see it now,” he breathed as he teased Dean’s dick, giving it a few rough tugs and watching how Dean’s dick unwillingly started to stiffen in his hand. “I could bend that little whore of yours over, put him in a nice provocative position and then have you behind him hands shoving him down while you fuck him. It would work beautifully in my sinful collection. Ohhh I could position him so it looks like you’re raping him, add some violence and that’s how you’ll spend the rest of eternity is in a position of harming your pretty boyfriend.”

Hatred and horror stared up at him as he continue to tease Dean’s dick, fondling his balls, as he watched Dean’s eyes while he mused out loud.

“Wouldn’t that look beautiful? Castiel’s pretty face frozen in an expression of pain and terror while yours is in one of pleasure. Anyone who sees it would know what the image was portraying.”

He wanted Dean to really feel it and with a grin collected wax. The Collector began brush the hot wax on Dean’s leg before placing a strip over it. With a gleeful grin he ripped it off when it was ready and listened to the sound of pain rip its way from Dean’s mouth.

“This is going to feel like a walk in the park when I get to that hair between your legs.” The process was far slower than simply shaving but the reward was in the way Dean yelped and cried out each time he ripped more hair out using the wax. 

Once he finished with the legs he moved up to the hair surrounding Dean’s dick. The first strip ripped off had a blood curdling howl rip its way from Dean’s mouth and from there they only got louder as he continued to remove the hair using the hot wax.

“Bet that hurts.” The Collector chuckled adding more hot wax, placing the strip on it and waiting until it was ready to rip off. Dean’s skin was red, all over his legs and around his dick and balls, as The Collector finished there. “Guess you should have taken a page out of your whore’s book and gone hairless there, huh?”

Next, he ripped off the happy trail earning another howl and he could see the way Dean’s muscles twitched under his warm skin.

“You know thinking about what I’m going to do with you two I supposed I don’t  _need_  you attached to have that pretty little bottom displayed in such a way. Maybe a broken angel, violated and tainted would be a better choice for Castiel. You I could do something else with…so many options.”

Dean was hairless up to his eyebrows now as The Collector had waxed while talking and in between his musings. He silently waxed off the eyebrows, smirking at Dean who released more pained sounds, before moving on to cutting the hair a bit shorter so he could start there.

“It’s a shame those freckles will get covered up but I’ll make sure when I’m finished your statue will deserve its place in my collection. When I heard  _the Winchesters_  were in town I knew a few hints, little obvious clues, would lead you here. All that talk about the upcoming Dean Winchester following in his Daddy’s footsteps…how could I not want to add you to my collection? My first hunter.”

“I’m going to kill you.” Dean’s voice was hoarse from yelling as The Collector finished waxing off the last of Dean’s hair leaving him completely hairless just like his boyfriend whose sobs were now quiet, hitching sounds from where he soaked.

He scrubbed Dean clean, removing any remaining wax residue, before tossing the cloth away to focus on responding to Dean’s pathetic attempt at a threat. Like with Castiel he measured Dean, stored the information aside, to make sure he selected a mannequin pole that would work best.

The words caused him to laugh as he thought about their unlikeliness, “I’m afraid the only ones getting killed are going to be you two. After all art does demand sacrifice.” He didn’t tell Dean how it would happen, that was part of the fun and he wanted the hunter to watch it happen to Castiel first so he’d know what was coming.

It was always so much better when there were two models at once and they knew each other. The family of three he’d done a year back had been a truly delightful experience.

He rolled Dean over onto his belly to check for any missed hair, removed what was left on Dean’s legs and glanced in appreciation at Dean’s ass. It was rather impressive as well. Nice, round cheeks and a dusty colored hole nestled between.

Needless to say, it was an equally fuckable ass when compared to the other two he’d seen today. The Collector brought his hand down on Dean’s ass in a hard, ringing smack that had sound punching out of Dean and left a bright red handprint.

“Be happy I’m not putting soap in your mouth for the absolutely foul language.”

Humiliation was always so much fun.

He repeatedly brought his hand down on Dean’s plump ass, alternating between both sides, as he chastised Dean for his language and threats. The Collector spanked Dean until the young hunter was sobbing from the pain, pleading for him to stop and his breathing had started hitching violently in his throat.

Without pause he rolled Dean back over and picked up his flaccid dick. He stroked in hard, harsh pumps of his hand until the soft dick in his hand had hardened. “I think when I start molding the clay on you I’m going to smooth over this. I’ll give you a nice, flat bulge where this,” he squeezed Dean’s hard dick, “should be. Remove the evidence of the manhood you’re not doubt so proud of.”

The Collector jerked Dean’s dick, hard and rough, until the young hunter came with a broken sob. It was then, as he rubbed come covered fingers against Dean’s plump lips, that the young hunter started to cry.

He grinned at Dean as tears rolled down his cheeks and his lips trembled before reaching down to pick him up. It was easy to sink Dean down into the special oils, to secure him to the wall he was laid out with only his head above.

“Now you two can rest here while I start preparing the materials I’ll need.”


	3. Chapter 3

First, he hauled Castiel out and grinned when horrified blue eyes stared at him. “I need to get you onto the mannequin stand so you can dry.” He explained as he moved Castiel towards the smaller one he’d brought in. The position he planned on putting the youngest teenager in required a shorter stand where the pole curved instead of standing straight up.

He couldn’t wait to see how sinful this model would look once he was finished.

The Collector laid Castiel out on his belly as best he could on the plastic laid out around the short stand. “Now I need to loosen you enough to fit the round end inside. No matter how loose I get you it’s still going to hurt pushing so far inside but it won’t matter overall. No one will see the state of your insides after all. They’ll only care about the masterpiece you’ll present on the outside.”

It always required so much lube and The Collector had a large container ready as he pulled on the elbow long glove. He started with two fingers coated in lube, working them inside and scissoring as Castiel started sobbing brokenly.

He was careful with his model, no need to cause unnecessary bleeding because it would only ruin the clay if it mixed. The Collector made sure to loosen Castiel’s inner muscles before working a third finger inside.

The process was somewhat tedious but he firmly believed in attention to detail and this was just another way to prep the model before he could truly begin his work. It also filled him with pleasure knowing he would be the last to touch his models in such a way.

Slowly but surely the tight little hole was stretched open as Castiel continued to sob and had started to beg him to stop.

“I’m sure you’ve never had this much inside of you before.” He paused with a smirk, “Unless you have been a very naughty little boy and have an impressive dildo you love to ride.”

Castiel wailed as he started working his whole hand inside. The Collector was sure the teenager wouldn’t like how thick the metal ball on the end of the mannequin stand was when it was pushed inside if his hand was bothering him. It was significantly larger but The Collector didn't want to bother with double fisting his models. Some damage would have to be acceptable.

Of course, none of his models liked being stretched so full on the metal stand.

“Stop it!” Dean yelled out from where he was still soaking, “You’re hurting him stop touching him!”

He rolled his eyes as the protests continued and turned more violent the louder Castiel got as The Collector started to pump his hand in and out. Slowly he pressed deeper and curled his fist, still stretching and testing, before he started to push deeper up into Castiel’s young, tight body pumping in and out in short thrusts as he continued to loosen Castiel.

Great hitching sobs filled the room as he pulled back out and added a very generous amount of lube directly into the huge, gaping hole that had replaced the once small, puckered entrance.

The Collector pushed his fist against the opening and again began moving in deeper, pushing past resistance, until a good portion of his forearm was buried inside Castiel’s violently trembling body to the point he could push up against Castiel's stomach and see his fist. He worked the appendage in and out several times, closing his eyes as he listened to the way Castiel wailed, before he was satisfied with the stretch. Then he vigorously fucked his fist in and out, pounding into the young and small body before him, as the sobs got louder and louder as the teen's hole tried tightening down on him.

“There we go. Now you’re open enough.”

He pulled back out, tugging off the lube slick glove, before giving Castiel another shot and moving the teenager up. Castiel was deliciously light, so pretty and small, as he maneuvered the teen so he would be resting on his knees in front of the mannequin stand. The large ball of the stand still larger than the gaping hole it was going to be pushed inside.

It was a very slow process after he added even more lube but The Collector pressed the bulky metal ball up against Castiel’s gaping hole, using his strength to push past any resistance, before slowing sinking it in inch by inch.

The large metal ball at the end of the stand pushed past any resistance as he exerted more of his strength and then The Collector was guiding it inside as he maneuvered Castiel’s body to accommodate the curve of the stand. High pitched, keening wails filled the room as the end of the stand moved deeper while the metal pole part of the stand began to inch inside still splitting Castiel’s hole wide open on the thick arm of the stand. The arm of the stand itself wasn't near the size of the ball but at over five inches wide the stand would be painful even after a vigorous fisting.

“You should know you’ll never have anything bigger inside of you then this. It will be the very last thing you’ll have fucking deep into that once tight little hole of yours.” He laughed when Dean’s howling and threats increased in volume even though his angle prevented him from seeing what was happening. "Permanently split open and full."

“Stop please stop!” Castiel sobbed out as The Collector used a support to hold it in place and spread Castiel’s knees apart from the position of Castiel’s upper body pressed down to the plastic covered floor with his ass raised.

He had to start guiding Castiel’s limp body up so he was sinking down onto the stand and the pole moved even deeper. Now Castiel was on his knees with the mannequin pole buried deep inside his ass so it looked as though he was riding a monstrous metal dildo.

The Collector used the rope supports hanging above as he moved them down, hooking them under Castiel’s armpits, to hold him in place so he was suspended and prevented from completely sinking down onto the mannequin pole.

“I was torn on how to position you, something innocent or sinful, then I realized I could combine them. When I get done this pole, buried so perfectly inside your plump ass, is going to look like a giant dildo that you’re sinking down onto.” He laughed in delight as Castiel wept openly at the pain of the mannequin pole nestled deep inside. The loud sobs were rough and ragged.

“I’ll fucking _kill you_!” Dean howled out as The Collector checked Castiel over and grinned at the tear stained face. He reached forward to touch where he could see the large metal ball pressed up against Castiel’s flat belly. It was obscene.

“That will really add to it.” He said, pleased and excited, as he took in the press of the metal ball against Castiel’s stomach thanks to the angle Castiel was posed in. The Collector positioned Castiel again so the large metal ball pushed even harsher against the flesh of Castiel's belly so the shape of it would be more distinct. The change of position made it go even further into Castiel. “It will look like the toy inside of you is so large it’s pressing against that belly of yours. So delightfully obscene. You'll be jerking off material for countless visitors.”

Castiel only cried in response, beyond words, as The Collector stood. He left Castiel to dry as he went to collect Dean. The young hunter would be standing for his pose but he would also get to experience having something buried deep within him.

The Collector hauled Dean out, ignoring the sound of horror at the sight of Castiel and the renewed threats, as he moved Dean towards the other stand. He laid Dean out on the plastic, belly down, before once more getting an elbow length glove.

He hummed, sickly pleased, as he started working Dean’s no doubt virgin hole open, while the hunter cried out in pain. Not having anything up there before would no doubt make this a very different experience but no less very painful.

It was hard to imagine the kind of pain having one of those mannequin poles, special made for various positions and to prevent serious internal damage, buried so far up inside the human body. The ball on the end was far too large to safely remain inside someone but considering his models were not long for this world once he started it hardly mattered. And the sight of the thick, wide poles splitting their holes wide was an added bonus.

“This must be a new and exciting experience, hmmm?” he teased as he worked a third finger inside and started to finger fuck Dean for no other reason than to further humiliate the hunter. The Collector then intentionally sought out Dean’s prostate and started to rub against it forcing out broken whimpers of pleasure. He was going to make sure this hunter  _suffered_ in every possible way.

“Stop! Please stop that stop stop stop!”

He didn’t. Instead The Collector kept stroking against Dean’s prostate as Dean moaned loudly, inner muscles flexing around him, as he worked the hunter up until he was sure Dean’s body would be rocking back into him if he could. The way Dean's hole clung to him, tight and hot, was more than evidence enough of what he'd just done. Without a word he resumed loosening Dean’s hole, adding another finger, until he could start working his whole hand inside. The moans of pleasure had once more turned into cries of pain as he forced his way deep inside.

A wicked smirk stole over his features as he curled his hand into a fist, fucking Dean with it, before pulling out to add more lube.

“You could have easily been the sluttiest little bottom, couldn’t you? Though I bet you’d need an older man to shove you down, fuck into you and use your little hole until you wouldn’t even remember your own name. Or maybe you’d like one of those creatures you hunt to catch you and use you rough and hard.”

His forearm was buried deep inside Dean’s body, pressed against Dean's stomach, and the sobs were hitching in Dean’s throat as he flexed, making sure Dean was open enough, before slowly and teasingly withdrawing so his fist was caught just inside Dean's puffy rim. The Collector hummed lowly to himself, eyes alight with vindictive pleasure, as he gripped Dean's prone body and started to roughly fuck the young hunter with his fist. He shoved deep on each thrust, relentlessly pumping in and out, as Dean howled and wailed and begged so beautifully for him to stop.

But he didn't.

He kept thrusting away, enjoying the sounds Dean was releasing and the way he could read pain in every single line of Dean's soft body. The Collector shoved deeper, curling his fingers against Dean's tender insides, before teasingly withdrawing at a slow pace. He let his fist catch once more on Dean's rim, shortly fucking into Dean a few more times, before curling his fingers against where he knew Dean's prostate was. The teenager howled again, denial at the pleasure coupled with pain, as The Collector forced Dean to orgasm again. Broken, wrecked sobs filled the room as Dean laid there limply. With a smirk he pulled his hand out.

The once tight, virgin hole was now gaping wider than even the most experienced bottom might have displayed after a particularly rigorous multiple partner fucking. It looked good on Dean.

“Don’t you look…sinful?” he laughed adding more lube to Dean’s hole and turning the stand over so he could start working it inside. Just like Dean’s boyfriend the young hunter howled as the huge metal ball pushed past the resistance of his rim.

It wasn’t a curved, short pole like Castiel’s but instead a long and straight mannequin stand he had selected to fit someone of Dean’s height. He wouldn’t have the hunter dying on him before he allowed Dean to succumb to death but it would cause horrific pain just the same.

“Stop stop stop!” Dean was howling and The Collector could see muscles twitching. He paused, leaving the pole buried inside of Dean, to get another injection. It pushed into Dean’s skin and soon enough the movement stopped. He resumed pushing the mannequin pole inside until the metal of its base rested against Dean’s feet.

“There we go. That will keep you in place and you can dry while I continue getting everything ready for your delectable little boyfriend.”

“You’re a fucking monster.” The words held no heat, only Dean’s pain, as The Collector gripped him to haul the stand upright. He used the supports above, adjusting them, to wrap one under Dean’s right armpit and then the other under his left.

It kept him upright and in place. The supports helped with putting the model into his chosen pose.

He still wasn’t completely decided on what he was going to do with Dean’s pose but The Collector was more than pleased with Castiel’s. There were several props he’d need to get for Castiel’s pose, he did want the pretty little thing to look perfect, and he knew exactly where they were.

The Collector had purchased quite a few different items for his statues and wax figures so he would have plenty to choose from. They were sectioned off by the rooms he had upstairs to make finding props easier.

First, he walked over to Castiel, touching the crying teenager, to check for how dry he was. He made sure to meet Dean’s pained eyes as he tested how dry Castiel’s small dick and balls were, fingers trailing over the soft flesh, as Dean tried to muster a violent reaction but could only cry more. He moved his hand up, rubbed against the taut and wrecked rim, as he made a considering noise.

“Not dry enough.” He breathed out before turning and heading towards were he kept his supplies. A soft little tune escaped him as he looked through the sex toys until he found a large ball-gag and a pair of handcuffs.

It would be best to work on the wings, shaping them, once he had covered and shaped enough clay up Castiel’s body until he reached the back.

When he walked back over he could see Dean focused completely on Castiel as he tried desperately to calm the panicked teenager.

“It’s going to be ok, Cas. I swear it’s going to be ok.” Dean kept repeating the words over and over in a rough, scratchy voice The Collector could tell was trying to be soothing. “You’re alright. You’re alright, Cas. Come on, baby, shhhhh. I love you, Cas, I love you so much.”

But Castiel was in obvious pain and tears had long since run out as he remained in the beautiful position of being suspended from sinking completely down onto the mannequin pole.

“It won’t be alright.” He cut in as Dean started once more trying to calm Castiel, “It’s going to get much, much worse.”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Dean snarled but it had lost the heat from earlier and The Collector frowned tightly at the words. He didn’t appreciate being spoken to that way and if Dean kept it up he was more than willing to punish the young hunter beyond what he’d done so far.

He deposited the items near Castiel, not caring if they ended up dirty from the floor, before he stepped right up to Dean.

“I would suggest curbing that tongue of yours.” The warning was soft but he made sure to fill it with malice as he turned to his clay after touching Castiel’s naked body to test that he was dry.

Sure enough the time Castiel had been laid out getting the mannequin pole worked inside and during Dean’s own positioning he had dried nicely.

“Great. You’re ready.”

The clay was brought over along with the water he knew he would need. Carefully The Collector began to start molding the clay to Castiel’s nude form. He had plenty of experience with the process and he started with Castiel’s feet.

Every inch of the terrified teenager would need to be covered in clay by the time he was done. He ignored Dean’s angry words and focused on the task at hand. Slowly the clay began to cover smooth skin as he hummed under his breath and let himself get lost in the process of creating.

This would be one of his best creations he was more than sure.

A young angel, bound and gagged, sinking down onto a monstrous dildo that was already poking against his stomach. The small dick and balls worked perfectly in the image he wanted to convey.

Using his hands and tools The Collector worked tirelessly from Castiel’s toes, up past his ankles and along his legs. He made sure not to lose any of Castiel’s natural, lithe form as he molded the clay.

It would be gorgeous.

“You sick fuck!” Dean’s words had him pausing where he was working at Castiel’s knees. He had needed to shift Castiel’s body up to make sure every inch of his legs, including the backs of his knees, had been coated in clay. “Let him go!”

The Collector shifted Castiel back into position, lowering him down once more, when he was satisfied with the layer of clay. “You’re going to regret that.” He spoke calmly despite the anger boiling under his skin.

Maybe he should have gagged the hunter.

Clay and water.

Hands and tools.

The Collector worked his way up Castiel’s thighs as he continued shaping the clay to Castiel’s soft body. He could still hear the hitching sobs as he worked but it was more than expected.

His models always seemed so hysterical even though they were being turned into works of art. The statues were continuously admired by countless visitors in the museum and The Collector himself always took time to admire his collection. His models would stand the test of time, immortalized forever, and it was a bit of a shame they didn't appreciate what he was doing for them. He was making them into art. Beautiful art to be admired and viewed by countless people.

“You should be honored I’m going to make sure you’re perfect.” The Collector spoke to Castiel as he slowly moved up Castiel’s thighs. He would need to start constructing the stand with the clay to turn it into the appearance of a huge dildo.

Applying clay, shaping it and smoothing it out until it was perfect was a bit harder working around the small dick and balls but The Collector finished the task as he had plenty of times before.

He smoothed the clay over the plump swell of Castiel’s ass, making sure to thoroughly cover the skin, all the way to where his small hole was stretched taut around the mannequin pole.

From that point, once he had leveled and shaped the clay to show off the curves of Castiel’s body, he started to shape clay around the pole so it looked like the giant dildo he imagined.

The Collector gleefully added details to the shape of the dildo, making sure that from any angle it would truly look like the statue was sinking down onto a dildo, while listening to the way Castiel’s breathing had quickened to the point of hyperventilating.

He wasn’t surprised when the teenager passed out and Dean’s snarling increased exponentially. The unconsciousness made it easier to work as he wet his hands and continued.

His eyes moved over the details of Castiel’s clay covered toes, the arch of his foot, up his spread legs, over the clay covered dick and balls, before settling on the sight of the dildo shaped clay. It honestly looked perfect and he allowed a very pleased smile to cross his face.

Castiel’s plump ass was perfectly displayed, the clay shaped and smoothed to show it in flawless detail, as well as the way it truly looked like a giant dildo was splitting his perfect ass open.

“Sinful.” He breathed in pure admiration at the sight. The Collector gave himself time to search for any flaws, using his tools to fix them, until he was satisfied that it looked flawless.

With a nod of satisfaction, he started to move up the small of Castiel’s back, covering the teenager’s sides and belly.

“Looking good.” he murmured as he worked carefully so Castiel’s bellybutton was still obvious. It was important once he reached the bulge in Castiel’s stomach to shape the clay in such a way that it was more than evident _what_ the bulge was so the clay didn’t cover it.

The muscles in Castiel’s stomach quivered as he worked and when it was high enough he started on Castiel’s hands. It was even more fine work, much like the toes and Castiel’s groin, so he leaned closer.

His hands remained steady as he added clay, used his tools to remove excess and to add the details that made his statues come to life long after their models had perished.

The details of Castiel’s hands took shape as he added clay and shaped it before he started to work up Castiel’s arms. He had to get to the point where he could add the handcuffs and when he finally was pleased The Collector reached for them.

He attached one to the right wrist and very, very carefully moved Castiel’s arms until he could cuff them behind Castiel at the small of his back. Of course The Collector had to fix the flaws he had caused in his work, adding clay and leveling it out, before he slowly curled Castiel’s fingers.

It was important that the hands appear as they would in an actual scene like the one he was portraying. “There we go.” He breathed out once clay had been delicately added to the handcuffs so they were covered but obvious as to what they were.

The details were far harder to get down when compared to the toes and fingers, it took a bit longer than he had thought, as The Collector paused to get himself something to drink.

“You’re sick.” Dean snarled at him, “You’re fucking sick and you’re going to die. If I can’t kill you my Dad will find you and you’ll be nothing more than a smear on the ground.”

“Keep talking.” He muttered with annoyance as he turned to Castiel’s nude, half covered in clay, form. The Collector worked on Castiel’s body until he had Castiel’s entire torso covered, shaped and perfected. “Just remember while you were soaking in the tub I was fucking your boyfriend’s ass wide open _with my fist_.”

Dean’s howl of rage had his annoyance leveling back out into contentment once more.

The supports keeping Castiel in position had been removed and adjusted until the teenager dried in position. It was in the middle of sculpting Castiel’s nipples, more delicate and detailed work, that Castiel seemed to rouse with a soft moan of protest.

“Don’t worry,” he spoke as he focused on the right nipple as it took shape, “Once I finish here I have to work on your wings and then I’ll need to attach them to your back. It’s why I had to add a bit more where they’re going to be affixed to you.”

“Please stop.” The voice was rough from the sobbing and screaming that had been going on. He could hear the unmistakable terror and grinned as he met bright blue eyes.

He tsked, “You’re going to be perfect when I finish. It’s unfortunate that a ceramic statue won’t capture how gorgeous those eyes are of yours but small sacrifices for art are to be expected.”


	4. Chapter 4

The wings had taken a great deal of time and attention. He had needed to go back to make sure the clay on Castiel’s back would be ready for him to mold the wings on as well as the last injection to keep Castiel’s form paralyzed while he finished. The dried clay would prevent any form of movement and he wouldn't need to keep injecting the teenager.

He had made sure to shape them as though they were reacting to Castiel sinking down onto an enormous dildo. They would be spread wide, arching as though in ecstasy with the tips of the longest feathers touching the wide metal stand.

His eyes roved over them, took in the details of the feathers and the arches of the wings, before he nodded in approval.

They were perfect.

By this point Dean had shouted and threatened to the point of losing his voice but the venomous glare remained despite the no doubt _very_ painful and uncomfortable position. He had even let Dean’s paralytic run out to watch Dean’s movements cause pain that had forced Dean to stop moving.

The Collector walked over, letting his eyes move over Dean’s nude form on display, before reaching out to touch. He let his hands wander of the breadth of Dean’s shoulders, down his chest and to where his dick hung limp.

His fingers teasingly stroked along the length, moving down to fondle Dean’s heavy balls and then around to touch the swell of his ass. The muscles jumped under the skin as he teased.

Locking eyes with Dean he made sure to rub his fingers against the taunt rim of Dean’s hole that was stretched open on the mannequin pole. The way Dean’s body tried to jerk had the hunter sobbing in pain.

“I’ll be starting on you soon enough. You’re, without a doubt, completely dry and ready.” He stepped away and returned to start attaching the wings to Castiel’s back.

It was important to make sure they had a good foundation for the attachment and that they were placed perfectly so the entire image would come alive once he was finished.

He had to get more water as he worked, holding the weight of the wings so they could attach, as one after the other saw the wings added to Castiel’s back. It was harder blending the clay on Castiel’s back but as it took shape and the wings were successfully attached the sight was breathtaking.

They were spread out from where they arched away from Castiel’s back and truly looked like gorgeous wings one might find on an angel.

“Your name inspired the angel idea.” The Collector commented looking over the drying clay on Castiel’s lower half. It was coming along nicely already and he felt pleasure at successfully completing so much of a new statue. “Your hunter boyfriend pushed me towards the more debauched idea of an angel in such a position.”

“Cas.” Dean’s voice rasped as he spoke, “Fuck. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this.” The Collector figured Dean knew soon enough Castiel’s mouth wouldn’t be able to respond and his ears would be covered in clay shortly after. “I love you. I love you so much.”

A raspy sob escaped Castiel. “Dean.” It was choked and rough as The Collector ignored them. He didn’t care about mushy declarations. “I love you too.” His voice broke in the middle of the sentence and The Collector chuckled at the obvious pain. “I’m so scared.”

“That’s called common sense.”

“I know, Cas,” Dean was obviously ignoring him, “I know and I’m so sorry. I love you. Just remember how much I love you.” Tears were spilling down Dean’s cheeks as The Collector grabbed more clay, his tools and the large ball-gag. “Love you so much.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” Castiel sobbed out as The Collector reached up, gripped his jaw and forced his mouth open to shove the large ball-gag inside. It filled up Castiel’s mouth, stretched it wide, as he moved around to secure it behind Castiel’s head.

Now the sobs were muffled as Castiel clearly tried to keep talking to Dean but with his mouth so impossibly full it was near impossible. The Collector checked the position of the gag, made sure it was filling Castiel’s mouth and spreading his lips nicely around it.

“That’s perfect.” He patted Castiel’s cheeks in a condescending way, “Lush little mouth all full and now I don’t have to hear any more of those pathetic words.”

“You’re a fucking monster! How could you?” Dean was howling but The Collector merely ignored him at this point.

“It must be terrible to be unable to move and even when that last injection wears off the clay will be far too hard for you to move no matter how hard you try.” He started once more to work the clay over the naked flesh of Castiel’s body. Now he was working on the collarbones, making sure they would be on display, as Castiel cried into his gag.

The annoying sound, it had started to grate on his nerves, was muffled and even Dean’s hateful words couldn’t break his concentration as he worked his way up. Manipulating the clay, shaping it to perfectly show off Castiel’s form, as it reached up to Castiel’s neck.

Inch by inch the clay covered the remaining flesh of Castiel’s body, moving past his chin and over the back of his bald head. He left the fine features of the face last. It smoothed over Castiel’s brow, over the fine shell of Castiel’s ears, and the cheekbones.

Forming it over the large ball-gag, making sure to highlight Castiel’s lips and the outline of the ball-gag so anyone who saw the statue would _know_ what the statue was supposed to show, took skill and time. He leaned closer as he worked over Castiel’s face, leaving the nose last, as he had to tape the eyes shut. More muffled sobs sounded from the gagged mouth, successfully covered with clay and shaped for detail, as he taped them shut and started to mold clay over them.

The shape of Castiel’s face was more than evident as he worked, fingers steady and sure, as excess clay was removed and clay was levelled out into a perfectly smooth surface giving an image of closed eyes. He used extra clay to give Castiel hair in a similar shape to the dark hair The Collector had shaved off.

It lacked the softness but the shape he constructed onto Castiel’s skull was without question hair and looked good with the structure of Castiel’s face.

“Almost done.” He breathed as he placed two tubes in Castiel’s nose holes, making sure he didn’t get any clay blocking air from getting in, as he set about molding the clay over Castiel’s nose. It slowly took shape, clay leveling out and forming, as The Collector put the final touches on his newest statue.

Clay was shaped over Castiel’s eyes as though the angel statue had been blindfolded. He moved the tool carefully over where a blindfold would rest, over Castiel’s clay covered eyes, around the sides of his head and into the formation of what appeared to be a blindfold knotted in the back.

“Perfect.” He could hardly contain his pleasure at the sight before him as he pulled the tubes from Castiel’s nose leaving the holes exposed. The Collector would add clay to the open holes after he pulled the statue from the kiln upon the completion of the first firing.

The sounds Castiel had been making were reduced to muffled whimpers that could barely be made out.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice broke as the only sounds from Castiel remained muffled and with his ears coated in clay it was likely he couldn’t hear much of anything. “Cas? Baby?”

He moved on to getting clay for Dean and a new syringe. Like Castiel The Collector started at Dean’s toes, covering the toes and moving along the arch of Dean’s foot.

The Collector shifted Dean’s position with the supports under his arms so it looked as though he was leaning slightly backwards, back somewhat bowed, with the legs braced apart before starting to work up Dean’s hairless legs with his clay. “Someone is going to figure out where people are disappearing to.” Dean sounded choked and terrified, “They’re going to find you and kill you. You’re going to fucking die.”

“Like I said before no one has figured it out yet and I’ve been doing this for a very long time.” He was completely unconcerned as he worked and manipulated the clay to show off the muscles in Dean’s calves.

Dean would be going into a far different collection than his boyfriend.

“You’ll be separated.” He breathed out with undeniable glee in his tone, “Your statues will _never_ be in the same room. He never even got to see you after I put that huge metal mannequin stand pole up his tight little ass.”

A vicious sounding snarl sounded above him as he added more clay to Dean’s legs. “I hope when someone kills you it’s slow and painful and humiliating.”

“You haven’t seen humiliating yet, _Dean_.” He continued and returned to the taunts easily, “I was the last thing he felt inside of him. You didn’t get to see it but I fucked that tight little ass with my fingers, my fist and then my arm so he _gaped obscenely_. The last thing he felt was _my hands_ on him and the last face he saw was _mine_.”

“I hate you.” Dean’s voice was filled with blind hatred and The Collector glanced up to see tears spilling out of Dean’s green eyes. “I fucking hate you.”

“My models’ feelings are of little concern to me. The second you were foolish enough to come onto my property you became mine. Your lives and your deaths are mine. Your bodies and your statues belong to me. People come from miles to see my statues and all of those people, a lot of them perverted, will gaze upon the image of your boyfriend and see every inch of him in the position of riding a dildo.”

He moved up Dean’s legs until he reached the dick and balls. The Collector moved to the back of Dean to work the clay over the plump swell of Dean’s ass, sculpting it so one of Dean’s best assets were completely on display. He moved the clay over so it pressed between Dean’s cheeks until he was right up against the stand. Clay was smoothed around the area, sealing off any openings, as the shape of Dean’s ass came off nicely.

“Now for your punishment for those awful words you kept spitting at me while I was trying to work on my beautiful tainted angel.” He moved to get a length of twine and whistling to himself he looped it around Dean’s balls, moved it as close to the base of them as possible and tightened it. “Usually I only do modifications when the statue calls for it but you’re a special case and honestly you have this coming.”

Dean howled in pain as The Collector made sure the twine was tight before knotting it. Silently he moved away from where Dean remained positioned and unable to move.

The blade needed to be hot enough.

It took a bit to heat the sharp knife to the point of the blade glowing red hot but once it was done he brought the burning metal up to gaze at it. “You really should choose when to have a set of balls and when to keep your mouth shut.” He turned back and moved towards Dean.

The young hunter was angled back in such a way that he couldn’t quite see what The Collector was doing but that didn’t deter him. “By now I’m sure your balls are aching something horrible but you won’t have to worry about them for very long. I thought about removing that dick of yours but I’m going to tuck it underneath. It will look as though you’re completely bare between the legs. Your manhood, something I know you feel pride for, will appear to have never existed.”

He stepped up to Dean, collected the darkening balls, before bringing the hot blade down on Dean’s flesh. The howl before was nothing on the sound that ripped its way from Dean’s mouth. It echoed in the room as The Collector methodically cut Dean’s balls from his body.

The burning blade was used to cauterize the wound. Sobs and whimpers and a broken kind of keening sound escaped Dean as The Collector kept pressing the burning blade against the wounded area.

There was a bit of blood but mercifully nothing had gotten onto any of the clay. He breathed a sigh of relief as he tossed Dean’s balls into the trash, went to the sink to wash his hands and returned to his work area where Dean was still sobbing in agony.

He didn’t give Dean a moment to recover and immediately, upon getting a roll of tape, reached for Dean’s limp dick. It was tucked underneath Dean, pressed as tightly up against Dean’s body as possible, before being taped in place.

It went a bit over clay already there but he could smooth things out as he worked and it would look just as perfect when he was done. The Collector ignored the continued howls and cries as he started slathering clay onto the juncture between Dean’s legs.

As time passed the clay was molded and shaped to conceal Dean’s useless dick, still showing off the gorgeous swell of his ass, while giving the appearance of there having never been anything between the young hunter’s legs to begin with.

The Collector loved how humiliating it was and how it stripped something he knew was important to Dean from the hunter. “Don’t worry,” He cooed mockingly, “You look perfect without a dick and balls. They took something away from your _beauty_.”

Dean seemed beyond words at this point and The Collector was completely fine with it. He started to move up Dean’s torso, coating tan skin in clay and shaping it to contour to Dean’s form, all the while listening to heart-wrenching sobs.

“Shhhhh. Dry those eyes. I threw those useless things away. You don’t have to worry about them ever again and it isn’t like you’re ever going to fuck anyone after this.”

Clay was smoothed over Dean’s back, the muscles coming out as he shaped it, while Dean’s breathing came out rapid. Dean’s body looked perfect covered in clay with the different lines of his form being painstakingly sculpted with his hands and tools.

“I’ve decided on a fallen warrior theme for you. You’re going to be impaled on a long spear. Your right hand will hold a sword and your left will dangle down uselessly. I have a way to prop your mouth open in a silent cry. It’s a bit generic but it will cover your teeth, press against your tongue and keep your mouth open. I’ll see how everything else looks before I decide on which shape I want your mouth to form.”

The prop sword, long enough to reach down to touch on the base of Dean’s stand and already done in clay, was superglued to the palm of his hand once The Collector had coated the digits in clay and carefully shaped them. He made sure the sword would say and that it kept Dean’s body in the right position.

Dean’s arm was slightly hanging back from his bowed position, the sword seemingly clutched in his hands but pointed tip to the floor, as though it had hit the ground after he would be impaled.

It would tell a great story.

The Collector looked at the long spear he’d grabbed upon selecting the sword. It took a bit to figure the angle for the spear where it would need to be attached on the top and where it would need to be attached on the bottom so it appeared to have impaled Dean through the chest.

He measured carefully, made light marks as guides, before cutting the spear. It would touch down against the base of Dean’s stand and stick out far enough on top to really bring the image home.

Leaving Dean in position he moved to sit down and focus on coating the spear in clay, smoothing out the rough and uneven spots, as it slowly retained its shape even when covered in clay.

It took a bit more to get it into place underneath Dean so it pressed right up against the skin of Dean’s back to appear as though it was coming out of him. He shaped it so it appears the sharp end had sliced through Dean’s back, jagged lines on either side where the sharp blade would have cut through, as he kept it in place.

Patience was a virtue in this line of work.

Finally, it stayed in place beautifully and he started on attaching the other piece as though it was going through Dean’s chest. He stood on a chair to make sure to get the right angle, adding the jagged entry wound, before attaching the rest of the spear.

This would be an equally perfect piece once he was finished. After awhile the spear was in place and he moved on to the other arm. The fingers were moved in such a way that Dean’s hand would remain open with slightly curled fingers while the arm itself would dangle back slightly as though Dean were falling after being impaled.

“Please stop.” Dean’s voice was hoarse and broken sounding from the deep sobs and howls. “Please just stop. Please please please please.”

He chuckled, “And ruin what is surely to be yet another masterpiece? I don’t think so. I went to far too much work to lure you here.” He moved up Dean’s torso to his shoulders and collarbones.

The details were very important.

It was slow, painstakingly slow but very rewarding as he worked. Dean kept begging and sobbing and pleading so beautifully it had pleasure twisting inside of him.

“All those tears for me.” He teased, “I feel so special.”

The clay was moved up Dean’s neck, the length of it encased in clay, as The Collector moved up the back of Dean’s head. He hummed as he worked carefully.

“Please please please please.” Dean was sobbing the word in a pathetic mantra, “Don’t do this. You don’t want to do this please don’t please.”

“I really, really _do_ want to do this.” He grinned as tear filled eyes stared at him, “I think I’ll leave your eyes uncovered until you’re to go in the kiln.”

The Collector stepped away from Dean to get the piece covered in already molded clay he’d had created in the past for when he wanted a statue’s mouth open. There were different sizes depending on how he wanted the mouth and each piece was reinforced to make sure the model didn’t ruin it. He chose the one that would give him the ability to shape Dean’s face so it looked like his mouth was open in agony.

His fingers dug into Dean’s cheeks as he pried the mouth open, staring into terror filled green eyes, before he worked it inside. It fitted around the teeth, the bottom covered the tongue almost to the back, before the back curved up for the top piece. The piece was enclosed so the clay he’d already coated it with and sculpted would remain where it needed to be instead of the model’s mouth messing it up.

“There we go. This part is a bit harder to get the details but I’ve managed every single time.”

It looked right as he glanced in Dean’s mouth to take in the clay covered piece. The look of a tongue and teeth worked with how he had seen statues in the past with open mouths. Only a hint of teeth and the tongue simply rested at the bottom of the mouth.

Next, he added clay to Dean’s lips so it smoothed down to meet the edges of the piece nestled in Dean’s mouth. It blended slowly but surely as he manipulated the clay meticulously.

The plump line of Dean’s lips appeared, the seam between them and the piece inside disappeared into one piece and Dean’s chin was on display. Clay coated Dean’s cheeks, the fine details of the shell of his ears appeared after careful attention, and after adding the same tubes he had used for Castiel’s nose The Collector finished with Dean’s nose.

Hair was shaped onto Dean’s head though he made sure to copy something from the time period when warriors like he was envisioning Dean’s statue existed.

He left Dean’s eyes open, smoothing the clay over the area around Dean’s eyes but never covering them. “This is the best part.” He breathed out in excitement, “Did you know the human body can survive three weeks without food but only three days without water?”

Horror filled those green eyes.

“While your sinful boyfriend is going to be shoved into the kiln, _cooked_ until his statue is done, glazed and cooked again you’re going to wait down here for days before you get your turn.”

Dean’s eyes darted around and he could hear very muffled protests coming from Dean’s sealed mouth.

“Don’t worry, _hunter_ , I plan on checking up on you during those days while you’re waiting. Thankfully I won't have to keep injecting you so you can’t move since that clay dries harder than a rock but I love seeing the hope fade from a model’s eyes and I'm sure you don't want to be left alone constantly in your final days.”

He moved away from Dean and towards Castiel. The clay had dried nicely and he nodded. It was time for the first firing. Whistling in pleasure he very carefully managed the statue up onto the large based dolly.

It was a slow, careful move as he made sure not to damage the dried clay on his way to the person sized kiln he’d personally built into the workshop he’d designed. Everything had been painstakingly considered and built specifically for firing life sized statues.

The Collector wheeled Castiel’s statue inside, marveling at how gorgeous it already looked and listened to the muffled cries still escaping out of the ball-gagged and clay covered mouth.

“Just wait until the heat starts cooking you _alive_.” He breathed giddily as Castiel’s statue was deposited in place. His eyes checked it over making sure everything was in order and that he had not missed a single thing.

The temperature would be unbearable as he sealed it off and started the kiln as heat began to steadily increase until it would reach the set temperature. He had plenty of time to make sure the glaze was ready for when Castiel had finished firing inside the kiln the first time.

As the heat built that’s when the muffled howls started and a glance back at Dean had him catching muffled crying. “Hear that?” he breathed in pleasure as he moved back towards Dean’s paralyzed and clay covered form. “That’s the sound of your boyfriend _cooking alive_ and turning into a perfect statue. That metal pole with the large metal ball at the end buried inside of him? It’s heating up and cooking his insides even quicker.”

He stepped up onto the chair to gaze into tear filled green eyes and smiled widely. The sight was breathtaking and The Collector allowed himself to enjoy the agony, emotional agony welling up, as Dean cried silently.

“Once he’s finished and ready I’ll add the glaze to the outside, fire him again and then he’ll be ready to move up to the sinful collection. The glaze is an important step in both finalizing his statue and completely sealing it. Can't have my collections smelling, can I?” The Collector stepped down and moved away, “I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you. I'm sure you'll miss me while I'm gone.”


	5. Chapter 5

The Collector gleefully pressed his fingers against Dean’s nose holes, cutting off the young hunter’s air, as he watched green eyes widen in panic. Dean had been incased in dry clay for well over a day now.

He listened to the muffled, choked off sounds of someone trying to desperately breathe before moving his fingers away. The panic was more than evident in Dean’s eyes and he could see the way Dean was completely terrified.

“I thought you might like to see an image of the finished project. Castiel turned out beautifully. Smooth, glassy and appearing as a lovely debauched angel.” He had taken pictures from multiple angles once Castiel’s statue had come back out of the kiln after the glaze firing.

With wicked amusement he held up the large screen showing glassy green eyes the image of the finished statue.

The nude form of Castiel appeared to be resting on his knees as he sunk down onto a monstrous dildo that pushed against the flat line of his stomach, his wrists were clearly bound behind his back with handcuffs while his mouth was stuffed full of a large ball-gag and a blindfold rested across his eyes. The Collector marveled at the arch of Castiel’s wings that made it appear like they were arched in pleasure.

He showed Dean close-ups of every single aspect of the statue. From the spread of Castiel’s legs in his position, the sight of the clay shaped into a dildo, how he was bound and even Castiel’s small dick and balls resting between his spread legs.

“Isn’t he perfect? He’ll stay young, seventeen and sinking down onto a huge object forever.” The Collector zoomed in on Castiel’s face for Dean to gaze at as tears escaped exposed green eyes.

He let Dean take in the images of his boyfriend's statue, every single delicious image, before stepping down from the chair.

“Now I need to go put Castiel up in his new home. I thought you might like to know that the plaque on his statue will read.” He paused before continuing, “‘Debauched Angel. Model Castiel’ is what I decided on. He is after all going into the sinful collection and the way it looks like he’s taking that gigantic dildo truly sells it. I wonder how many will see his statue and later get off to the image of it.”

He moved the rest of the way away from Dean and back towards where Castiel had been very carefully placed to be moved. Each step forward had him watching the statue, making sure it didn’t hit anything, as he moved onto the huge lift and upstairs towards the correct floor.

The sinful collection room held his favorite pieces, if The Collector had to pick one room, and Castiel’s debauched angel was placed carefully in the center. He had prepared the place especially for this statue, the lighting was beautiful and cast the right kind of shadows, as well as giving the wings room to be admired along with the spread of Castiel’s round ass.

This room was one of the reasons that his museum, an interesting mixture of wax and ceramic clay statues, was not open to those under eighteen years of age. He couldn’t have small children looking at such images but he did have special family weekends where the sinful collection was closed for viewing.

The process was slow going as he eased Castiel’s statue off the large dolly, the larger base of it aided him in moving his statues, as he made sure the statue was in the exact place he had wanted. “Perfect.” His eyes moved over it, glancing once more for flaws and then checking that the clay he had added to Castiel’s nose holes after the first firing hadn’t taken away from the image.

It hadn’t.

“You’re going to be a very popular statue I have no doubt.” As if he hadn’t gotten enough requests to purchase his works of art but The Collector wouldn’t part with them. They were part of his collection, his labor and his trophies of the models he had acquired over the years.

He walked over to Samandriel, took in the teen’s dying form encased in wax, as he moved through the room. It wouldn’t be long. The human body could only last three days and Samandriel was rapidly approaching it.

“Don’t worry, little one, death will soon take you away.” He breathed out, “Then so many people will get to enjoy the sight of you displayed so provocatively for the rest of your wax statue’s days on display.”

* * *

“I’ll miss your emotionally broken green eyes staring at me.” The Collector stroked the skin around Dean’s eyes absentmindedly. “It’s too bad a statue can’t have actual eyes but oh well. I’ve learned to live with that tragedy.”

He taped Dean’s right eye closed and then moved on to taping the left one. The whole time he could hear muffled protests despite the obvious exhaustion and suffering he had seen in Dean’s eyes prior to closing them.

Over two days without food or water would take the energy out of anyone. It probably didn’t help that Dean had such a huge metal pole buried so deep up inside of his body or that he was covered in dried clay unable to move.

That wasn’t even getting into the pain Dean probably felt from having his balls cut off and the ruined skin sealed with a hot blade.

With care The Collector started covering up the last of Dean’s face, sculpting to make sure the expression of agony from being impaled with a spear showed on the face of Dean’s statue.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait near as long as he did for a whole body worth of clay to dry and soon enough he was loading Dean onto the dolly.

He whistled as he began wheeling Dean towards the kiln that waited silently for the next statue to be fired. “I hope you didn’t think your father was going to save you.” He scoffed, “As if anyone would know where you are or what is going to happen to you. Now I really hope you enjoy the feeling of that metal nestled deep inside of you burning hot because it’s going to heat up nicely.”

Once Dean was placed inside the huge kiln he removed the dolly and stepped back out. It sealed and The Collector kept his eyes fixed on it as he turned the kiln on.

Closing his eyes he waited for the muffled howls that always somehow managed to escape even the models whose mouths were stuffed full. It didn’t take long as the heat in the kiln steadily increased and then The Collector could hear Dean.

It was music to his ears.

The sound was a signal of how close he was to the completion of a new piece of his collection. It was the sound of success and accomplishment.

The sound of life draining away into a death that would be forever captured in one of his statues. He dropped down into a nearby chair to wait out the last of Dean Winchester’s life as the young hunter was cooked alive in the kiln, the clay baking nicely and the temperature treated metal lodged inside of him burning hot.

Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester died screaming, burning and cooking, without anyone outside of the museum being the wiser to what was happening in the basement. In their place would remain two gorgeous statues to be admired by countless visitors.

The Collector glanced over at the plaque he’d created for Dean’s statue and smiled, pleased at his choice of words, as he glanced over it.

‘Fallen Warrior. Model Dean Winchester’


	6. Seven Years Later

 “It’s Spring Break, Sam, why on Earth would you want to stop back here considering what happened seven years ago?” Adam grabbed a towel, drying off and watching Sam who had spread out on the soft grass near the stream they decided to cool off in.

They were not supposed to be staying long in the medium sized town that had somehow stolen Dean, their older brother whom Adam had never met, but Sam had been insistent.

“I want to check out that museum. There is something off about it and I swear I remember Dean talking about it before he went missing.”

“You know Dad said that had something to do with the hunt he had been working and not a museum of all things. They have wax and ceramic clay statues, Sam, not some killer or supernatural monster.”

Sam sat up and barely held back a scowl at his younger brother. He knew if Dean was still around, he couldn’t think of Dean dead, that his brother wouldn’t have given up like their Dad had done.

Dean would have kept going until he had answers and then he wouldn’t have stopped until he either brought them home or avenged them.

“It isn’t going to take too much time out of our trip, a day at the most, to check things out up there and then we can continue on.”

Adam released a heavily put upon sigh as he watched Sam stand up, still wet from the stream, before he crossed over to him. “You’re lucky we’re family. I don’t know of anyone else who would put up with you like this.”

“Jess does.”

“Well I always knew there was something wrong with her. This confirms it.”

It had Sam laughing as he shoved Adam and took a towel of his own. He dried off as best he could, tugged on a shirt and slipped on his shoes. “Come on. We can walk up there from here, look around and come back. If something seems off we’ll need to get something or at least call the cops.”

Adam agreed after a minute and Sam rewarded him with a bright smile.

“Thanks, Adam.” He breathed out softly, “I’m grateful Dad introduced us after Dean.”

There was a mutter about it being nothing and they turned to trek towards the museum. It wasn’t a long walk but it was enough for Sam to think about the last time he had seen Dean.

His brother had been grinning against Castiel’s lips, pressing the slightly smaller male against the lockers, as Sam had groaned at the public display of affection. It was far better than the time he’d walked in on Dean buried balls deep inside Castiel’s ass and the two of them moaning but at thirteen he hadn’t wanted to see his seventeen-year-old brother doing anything with anyone like that.

Dean had frequently traumatized him with his various conquests and now that Dean was gone Sam actually missed those moments that had horrified him so thoroughly in the past.

Sam shook the thought off. It seemed a bit morbid to be thinking on it but at least his last memory of Dean was of him happy with someone he cared about. They had been on good terms even if their Dad hadn’t been around.

He secretly hoped Dean had simply ran off with Castiel and that someday he would see them together, happy and safe.

“It looks a bit creepy.” Adam breathed out as he looked at the darkened building. “Wax and ceramic statues…there is just something wrong about life-like and life-sized statues.” He shuddered and Sam shook his head.

“Quit being dramatic.”

They moved towards the front and Sam thanked Dean for teaching him how to pick a lock. The museum was closed so they shouldn’t have any problems with someone finding them.

It clicked open and they moved inside. “At least some of the lower lights are on. I don’t want to injure myself on a fucking statue that I can’t see. If we get caught I am not paying for damaging one of these creepy things.”

As the moved from room to room, checking things over, Sam couldn’t shake the feeling of wrong that kept building inside of him each statue he looked over. There were a variety of ages, though nothing too young or old, and each room had some kind of theme to it.

He glanced at the label on the next room, The Sinful Collection, and arched a brow. Up to this point it had been the kind of poses and displays he would expect to find in this kind of museum.

Sam couldn’t recall something in any other museum like this that he would call sinful. He glanced over at Adam to see him going through a large open archway into a room that seemed to have figures with swords and other weapons.

“Nothing wrong with curiosity.” He muttered as he opened the one room that had doors. Sam’s eyebrows arched high as he took in the very, very provocative poses of the statues filling the room.

No wonder there was a door on this room. He couldn’t imagine parents bringing their kids would want them to see these kinds of images. There was absolutely _nothing_ innocent about the statues inside.

Sam stepped further into the room, moving from statue to statue, as he read the plaques and took in the poses that had truly earned their place in a room labeled _sinful_.

He blinked at the sight of one, a rather young looking wax statue that was more provocative than he’d expect of a statue of someone in their early teens, as he read the plaque: ‘Corrupted Innocence. Model Samandriel’.

“Guess there is something for everyone.” His lips twisted, not liking a figure so young in such a position, but knowing it was the artist’s choice on what they displayed.

His eyes skipped over the cleared, empty space that appeared as though it were set up for a new addition to the room. Likely one of the reasons the museum was closed if they were adding or moving things around.

Sam moved around, arousal increasing despite his attempts not to react, until he came to the figure in the center of the room. His eyes took in the back of the statue. He took in the way gorgeous wings were spread out and the sight of a plump ass spread wide open sinking down onto what had to be the biggest dildo he had seen as his gaze moved up to where wrists were bound with cuffs.

“ _Damn_.” Sam muttered at the sight of it. He could only imagine how many people had gotten off on such a sight considering that it had caused his own dick to harden even more than it had as he had looked at each statue in the room. He moved around the statue, taking in each inch of it, before moving to the front to see the complete statue.

Between spread legs, knees pressed down to the stand the statue was affixed to, rested a small dick with a small set of balls. The mouth appeared to be stuffed full of a large ball-gag and the eyes were covered with a blindfold.

He blinked at the provocative sight, dick annoying hard, and struggled to figure out _why_ something about the statue seemed familiar. “What on Earth—”

That was when he saw the plaque labeling the statue placed in such a prominent position in the sinful collection room. It had his throat closing up and his eyes widening as he realized exactly why the statue looked familiar.

‘Debauched Angel. Model Castiel’

It had to be a coincidence. The artist had seen all of the clips and images of Castiel Novak when he had disappeared and had been inspired to create the statue. People did that kind of thing all the time and maybe the artist knew Castiel? It was a good sized town and Sam knew that Dean hadn’t been the first guy Castiel had slept with.

He could remember the conversation they had had while he’d been ‘sleeping’ in the other bed. It was entirely possible the artist was that other person. Who knows what Castiel had done before the teenager had gotten together with his brother?

The realization of who the statue was modeled after had his dick softening rapidly despite the erotic statues filling the room that he had unwittingly enjoyed looking at.

“ _Sam_!” Adam’s voice echoed out loudly and Sam could hear something like stunned shock filling the tone. His heart stopped in his chest as he stared at the statue that looked identical to his missing brother’s boyfriend before he bolted out of the room and across the hall.

Adam was standing in front of a statue that from Sam’s angle looked as though the man depicted had been impaled by a spear. The body was bowed back, the right arm holding a sword leaned back as though the body was falling backwards, with the form completely nude.

It was different from the others of males in depicted in a similar style in that between this male’s legs there was nothing. No hint of a dick or balls could be seen. Though like the other ceramic statues the metal mannequin pole looked as though it disappeared between the spread cheeks of the male’s ass.

His eyes moved over the statue as he walked towards were Adam stood in front of it staring with shock on his face. Sam took the moment to step toward the statue’s face and took in the agony displayed on what he realized was an exact replica of his missing brother’s face.

“Adam…” his voice was choked and shaky, “What does the plaque say?”

Sam closed his eyes and struggled to calm his breathing as it started to come in rapid too quick breaths while he waited for Adam to say what he knew was too horrifying to imagine.

“It says: ‘Fallen Warrior. Model Dean Winchester’.” Adam’s voice sounded as horrified as his expression had been. “That can’t be right…why would someone use a missing teenager for a statue?”

He forced himself to open his eyes and look over the statue for evidence that where his mind was going was completely wrong. It had to be that the artist decided to use the missing teens’ images to create his statues.

Anything else was too horrible a thought.

Sam didn’t want to think that he was staring at Dean’s nude form impaled on a long spear. The detail looked more than life-like as he could see the lines of muscles, the shape of his brother’s body completely on display and the horror of the pose had him choking on a sob.

This had to simply be a statue it couldn’t be anything else. Just like Castiel’s statue across the hall in the sinful collection.

A gasp had him jerking to where Adam had collapsed on the floor in front of the statue, unmoving, as Sam pulled his eyes away from the sight of Dean seemingly impaled and on display.

He made it four steps before something jabbed into his side and Sam spun, moving to react, as whatever was injected into him started working. His muscles failed him and Sam ended up sprawled out on the floor.

“You should be more careful before breaking into a closed building.” The man stood over him with a disappointed look on his face. “At least you both look handsome enough for my collection.”

Sam watched as the man disappeared, the sound of retreating footsteps filling his ears, as he waited on the cold floor next to the statue of his brother. From the angle his eyes were fixed on the empty juncture between Dean’s legs and the sight of the large metal pole buried inside Dean’s ass.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there unable to move until the man from before came back and then Sam found himself being dragged across the floor, out of the room and down a hallway. Doors opened and he recognized the room as a large lift.

“Where is my brother?” Sam finally demanded as he found his voice, “What have you done with him?”

“He’s downstairs on a preparation table waiting.” Came the low response, “You’ll be joining him shortly.”

“Not that brother. What did you do to Dean?”

Silence followed the question and Sam was about to say something with the lift filled with what could only be described as darkly amused laughter. It sent a chill up his spine as the man gazed down at him with a hungry kind of look.

“Dean Winchester?” he breathed, “You’re Dean Winchester’s brother? And the other? Another brother?” wicked glee filled the questions, “It must be my lucky day to have that gorgeous would-be hunter’s brothers stumbled right into my arms.”

“What. Did. You. Do. To. Dean?” Sam bit out in mounting fury. His brother _should_ be celebrating his twenty fourth birthday, he should have seen Sam graduate high school and go onto Stanford but he hadn’t.

“You should know.” The man chocked his head at him, “You were admiring his statue upstairs.”

Sam swallowed roughly feeling sick. “That’s just a statue…it isn’t him.”

“You’ll get to see first-hand the entire process from capture, preparation, coating and finally the kiln. Well at least you’ll see those things happen to your younger brother.” lips curled in a knowing way, “You, though, are going to be a wax statue. I like to cycle through the different types so I can make sure to have a rather even number throughout my museum and you came at just the right time before I had to decide on the model I already had prepped.”

The lift opened and Sam found himself dragged through the room towards where he could hear Adam shouting for him. His heart started to pound and while fury was burning through his veins the feeling of fear was rapidly overtaking his mind.

He winced when the man gripped him tightly and hefted him up onto a table, lifting it so it was raised up, and he could hear Adam closer.

“Let’s see here…what is your name?” the man wasn’t talking to him, “Adam. Well Adam is going to be done in my favorite, ceramic clay, and you are going to get to be a wax statue.”

The sound of scissors had Sam’s eyes jerking to try to see what was happening as Adam started freaking out. “What are you doing? What are you doing? Stop please stop. _Sam_!”

“Let him go!” his voice echoed, “Let him go you sick monster.”

“Mmmm not a bad body to work with.” The man spoke before he was turning to Sam, “Let’s see what’s under these clothes.”

Sam’s breathing shuddered in his chest and his eyes widened as the man started cutting his clothing from his body after discarding his socks and shoes. “Stop.” He tried to jerk, to will his body to move, as every single article of clothing on him was cut from his body until he was laid out completely naked on the cold table.

The man whistled, “A bit more cut than your brother, Dean, was though it could be because you’ve got a few more years on you than he did at the end. Nice muscles, good proportions and,” another whistle, “That’s a _very_ impressive dick and set of balls you’ve got. A bit of a monster, huh?” the tone was teasing.

Sam felt sick to his stomach.

“I really wanted you for the sinful collection when I saw you, I am due another statue in there as it has been a few years, but that dick is going to be a problem for what I had in mind.” He shook his head, “Let it not be said that I can’t fix flaws in my models before we move on to the work of sculpting. Your timing truly was perfect. There was a pose I had thought about doing with Dean and Castiel but I had decided against it. Now, thanks to you, I can do something like it.”

Sam wanted to throw up and scream in horror at the same time as the man’s words washed over him. They painted a vivid, painful and horrifying picture of what was about to happen.

The image of Dean, three years younger than he was now, going through something similar had tears spilling from his eyes and running down the sides of his face.

“I would save the tears for when we really get started.” The man was back once more, “I figured I would let you experience some of the same things your pretty brother did down in my workshop. Usually I shave off my model’s hair but for him I waxed every single hair off. You’ll get to enjoy the same thing.”

More sounds of movement came from beside him and was almost drowned out by Adam’s panic as Sam laid there completely helpless as hot wax was brushed up his left leg.

“The two of you are going to make excellent additions to my collection. I have another model waiting in the other room for his wax, a very _very_ generous dick and balls, that is really going to make your statue a delectable piece. It’s harder when making a piece with two males appearing to have anal sex but it’s a challenge I’m excited to finally embrace. You’ll be posed so that you’re head down and ass raised up with the other model’s wide dick nestled in your hole. A ball-gag will be placed in your mouth with the other model’s hands gripping your hips as he drives into you. I’ll have to attach his hands first before covering you both in wax but I’ve attached two models before quite successfully.”

Sam’s ass clenched at the thought before his hair was being yanked off and he yelped at the pain.

“I’ll have those long legs of yours spread out where you’re kneeling to show off the flat juncture between your legs where your dick and balls used to be and to really add to the overall image I’m going to add a pink collar with your name on the tag.” The man’s voice got increasingly excited as he spoke, “Your brother over there will be a in a different room but you,” more wax was added, “I’ve been wanting to do that pose for awhile and you’re perfect for it. Beautiful in the right way to go with the other model. The other model is a great big bear of a man, large muscles and considerable bulk, with a dick to match. With your body and face you’ll be a perfect contrast.”

More pain had him gasping as more hair was ripped off his leg. Burst of pain after burst of pain registered as the man systematically ripped off the hair on his legs, working his way up, until Sam felt hot wax being brushed onto the hair surrounding his dick.

He could only grit his teeth, heart hammering in his chest, as the man ripped the wax off and Sam couldn’t stop the howl of pain that echoed through the room as agony had tears filling his eyes.

“ _Sam!_ ” Adam’s choked voice called for him in fear and Sam hated himself as he realized what he had condemned the two of them to. He desperately wished he had never found out how Dean’s last hours were spent as the man continued to work on him detailing everything he was going to do to Sam and Adam.

It was a nightmare that would be too horrific to imagine and he desperately wanted to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually one of my more challenging prompts and far different from anything I've actually come across. It required a bit of research and I bothered the prompter often for confirmation on different details/ideas.
> 
> Needless to say this prompt fill (inspired by House of Wax and various other sources) took on a mind of its own because I found myself getting lost in fleshing out the details to paint a vivid picture. Below are the main prompt points for this one which I think I managed to nail.
> 
> \- The main victims are Cas and Dean  
> \- They are HS age (17-18) Dean being a well known up-and-coming hunter and Cas his boyfriend  
> \- Both of them should be drugged and paralyzed throughout the process  
> -Boys watch as The Collector works on Samandriel (he is to be a wax statue)  
> \- The collector preps Cas first, leaving Dean to watch the show.  
> \- Prep would include but not limited to being all hair completely removed (Cas: shaved, Dean: waxed), cleaned, being emptied like in your House of the Woods series, once clean they're soaked in special oil to remove toxins/etc (NOTE: I decided to use the oil to accomplish "emptying them" like the prompter requested)  
> -The Collector torments Dean the entire time (though he treats his models carefully) verbally, sexually, physically and emotionally (spanking humiliating, cock tease) to break Dean's spirit.  
> -Both are impaled on a large metal mannequin stand with the rod part inserted in their ass to keep them in position and up into their bodies while they both dry  
> -He periodically fondles them to check if they're dry  
> \- Once the collector deems them ready, he'll smother/slather them in wet ceramic clay. It can be very hands on, or done by a machine. When it dries, the stuff is hard as rock and the boys shouldn't be able to move.  
> -Cas with angel wings in a submissive/kinky stance  
> -Cas has a small little dick with tiny plump balls, Dean is regular sized.  
> -Lots of begging and pleading and threatening  
> -The Collector removes Dean's balls as punishment for mouthing/sassing with a hot blade and then uses the clay to make it appear as though Dean doesn't even have a dick  
> \- Once dried, the Collector should fire up a giant kiln and stick Castiel inside first while Dean can only watch  
> -Dean is left encased in the hard clay for two days with his eyes exposed and his nose holes open before he is put into the kiln (The Collector periodically taunts/teases/suffocates him to break him further)  
> -Ends with Sam and Adam ending up at the museum only to get captured to be the next in the collection
> 
> So what did you all think? Interesting enough for you?
> 
> Also: In case anyone was curious I created a tumblr account at [thursdayhunter](http://www.thursdayhunter.tumblr.com) for communication outside of the AMAZING comments you all leave for me on my fics. It's one way I've received prompts or at least ideas for some of my fics on here. I do consider prompts sent to me or if someone has found a prompt on the kink-meme they think might be up my alley.


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